


Avenging Angel

by prismdreams



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Ultimateverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: 1960s, 1960s Music, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Historical, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Rating: M, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sensuality, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8785879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prismdreams/pseuds/prismdreams
Summary: Annette Arrington found college personally lonely. Mostly she kept to herself and hardly held the friends that she had close. She wanted to build her life far away from the inheritance she was bestowed. Suddenly, New York had a savior, someone that made Annette finally pay attention to the only life she was given. [WarrenxAnnette]





	1. Chapter 1

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_Fall 1964_

Annette Arrington opened her locker soundlessly like she had many times before. She hated frowning when she came to college; this was a place where she felt she could escape everything else. For the longest time she wanted peace at home. It wasn't too long ago that her family was split apart due to the passing of her late mother, Evelyn Arrington, the former heiress to the nation's leading real estate empire. She was a saint if there ever was one. Annette wanted to emulate her in any way she could. She took out a still photo, the only picture she had of her mother and held it close to her chest as she closed her eyes.

Somehow she felt closer to her every time she did this. Each time she was interrupted by outside noises. She knew where they came from. Annette opened her eyes and spied Warren Worthington III waving to a small group of his friends in a crisp white polo shirt, khakis pants that hugged his slender athletic frame in all the proper dimensions. Everything about him screamed WASP. His wavy blond hair flopped over his eyes in a perfect swirl but yet his strong, full blue eyes stood out from afar. She looked longingly at him for another moment before reopening her locker to place the picture of her mother securely inside.

The fall weather broke in a windy mood to the setting. Upper New York was a place where hot coca and soft listening music by the fireside was almost a requirement. Annette loved partaking in simple regiments, even as small as curling up on her couch and watching the tips of the flames dance with each other as it crackled in the background like percussive beats to a natural rhythm.

Annette gathered the last of her text books and Mead college bound notebook she wrote her name in and stuffed them inside her small book bag. She swung the bag on her shoulder and took a moment to sit near the fountain to say a small prayer to herself.

"Lord, I don't know if you can hear me. I haven't spoken with you in ages. I hadn't been avoiding you, I feel lost once more. I was wondering if you could send me some guidance. I wish, I do want to know so many things." Annette paused, taking a breath as her eyes glazed over. "But I guess I will know when I'm ready. Please don't abandon me. Send me a sign that she's watching over me, that she isn't disappointed in me. I just want to be reassured..." Annette said as she looked down. "I have to be..."

"Are you alright my dear?" A familiar, kind voice asked her.

It was the librarian, Ms. Davidson. She took a seat near Annette observing her.

Annette gently smiled. "Yes, thank you Ms. Davidson."

"You look distressed, dear. Anything I could do to help?"

Annette moved her wispy brunette fringe from her eyes so she can see more clearly. She hid behind her hair, it was a habit she hadn't broken yet. She hesitated before confessing her true emotions to one of the few people she trusted. The truth was...

"No, I'll be OK; I appreciate you offering to help me. I always appreciate you caring for me."

She clutched her notebook to her chest sighing as Ms. Davidson stood up and softly patted her shoulder, saying her good-byes then turning to walk to the campus faculty parking lot.

Annette gathered what was left of her strength and made her way outside of campus to her car. Once inside she switched on the radio, listening to the sweet, solemn sounds of Motown tunes. She leaned against the steering wheeling and sighed, taking a moment to compose herself before turning on the ignition.

She jumped up startled as she placed her palm over her chest. She looked to her side and rolled down the window staring into Warren's electric blue eyes. She was lost for a moment before she nervously smiled as he leaned down holding something in his hand.

"Hello Annette, you dropped this where you were sitting." Warren pulled out an object and gestured to the Mead notebook she didn't realize she left behind. "I think you might need it back."

Annette took a moment to realize he was actually noticing her. Then she reached to grab the notebook gently off his hands, her fingers slightly brushing with his at the corners. "Thank you, Warren."

"Sure...I'll be seeing you around." He said, his masculine yet gentle voice sounding like a velvet stream.

He shared a small look with her before standing up to his 6'0" frame; Annette looked up at him as she watched him slowly leave with his back turned, taking long strides to the opposite direction.

She never got tired of watching him no matter what he did. To Annette, he was an Adonis of a man. Nothing ever came out it. She knew she was out of his league and never pursued him further. Truth be told, he had more options around him to consider. He wasn't a typical WASP though, just shared the appearance of one. There were rumors of course of his courtships with different girls from the University but Annette refused to believe everything was true.

Warren seemed like a private person despite his outgoing persona and demeanor. Annette longed to see what he was like behind closed doors. When he wasn't the all-American poster boy, she wanted to know more, maybe that was dangerous and against protocol for her position in society but she almost didn't care if she overstepped her place. Women her age weren't becoming scholars or dreaming of having careers of their own. They were housewives, devoted caretakers, mothers, if they did work it was mainly limited and at home, just in time to make dinner and maintain cleanliness to the home.

Women in the 1960s bore a different kind of responsibility that wasn't too often talked about or explored, yet many people knew its rules and standards. It was barely questioned and when it was, you were labeled viciously as an outsider. Annette didn't feel far from that comparison. She'd always felt like someone born outside the norm. She'd kill for the confidence many girls her age had growing up. Who knows what kind of stature she would have had if she just believed in herself a little more.

She was a curious person, always asking questions. Why this? Why that? Her nose permanently stuck on the question mark of life as a whole. She wanted to know more, always. People made her curious, their life stories. Truth be told, she had kept to herself so she could just watch and observe what life was like through random perspectives. Rarely didn't she seek anyone out since everyone was interesting in their own way.

Warren was a case all on its own. She wanted to _know_ him. Ever since she first saw him on campus that day classes began. Even if he was out of her reach, she wanted to pretend he would give her the time of day. Every time he spoke to her directly she thought it might mean they would grow closer together, maybe as friends, who knows, maybe something she didn't think possible with anybody. It wouldn't be hard not to love Warren, he is attractive to look at, sensual, friendly, Annette also had the feeling that he genuinely cared about people even if his cool and collected mask gave him an otherwise overtly outgoing personality. It was a feeling she had whenever she watched him.

She restarted her car and finally pulled out of the parking lot, not looking back. Her emotions were steady, possibly because of Warren, even if it was a brief conversation, it still counted to her overall calmness. Driving back home was unpredictable. Her father was almost shell of a person since her mother passed away. Sometimes barely acknowledging that she was in the room. She was also worried his drinking may be making him more irritable than usual. He was always a big drinker and smoker, but now, those days are becoming small in comparison to who he is now. Despite everything she still comforted him since he wasn't person to show him emotions easily. She watched him, like she would anybody who needed to be taken care of. Annette put it upon herself to make sure her father wasn't completely breaking down; although recently on two occasions it looked like it was going in that direction.

She pulled her car into one of the spaces of the four car garage underground of the estate she lived in. She sighed before getting out and making her way toward the front entrance and foyer. She had heard the television on in the family room, turned up on a special news report. She knew her father was there, sitting idly in his favorite brown recliner swirling his ice cubed Scotch in his strong hand. As predictability would have it, he was laying in the corner of the room, mid-swirl, stopping as Annette came into the room.

"Hello father, how are you?" Annette asked him in a small voice.

When he didn't answer she came forward to began a new question.

"Are you cold—"

"Annette, stop it. Stop pretending like she is still here. I get enough of it from your Aunt..." Edward Arrington stood up briskly from his recliner, rubbing his salt and pepper hair and his face as he turned around to refill his glass.

Annette treaded very carefully. Thankfully her father was never physical with her but he had a strong temper and she didn't want to be within the crossfire of it. She rubbed her shoulders as she placed her book bag down and went to close the wide opened window from the brash weather attempting to chill the room. New York weather was bordering on bitterly cold; Annette wanted to help make it better in some way, even in the smallest of ways.

But her father sometimes wouldn't make it easy for her. Despite his personal mishaps he had everything else in control; the business was building toward a great legacy, one that he could feel proud to leave behind for his child, the one he barely acknowledged nowadays. Edward wasn't always this distant and cold. His temper was tamed with Evelyn by his side. There were many moments where in Annette's fondest memories he would be an amazing caretaker, he was a provider, someone who worked hard and believed in stark values to progress one's livelihood. But those days were growing further away as time went on. She held him as a high influence one upon a time.

Annette knew she was doing a poor job of trying to make things right and she realized no matter what she did it was never going to be good enough around her father. The common sense hit her between the eyes every time she thought he was going to relent and give life one more chance. Being around him made her sometimes feel suicidal. She took a deep breath before closing the curtains, watching the rain pour down the pavement as it begun splashing against the window. She turned on the lamps and slowly but surely made her way to the kitchen.

The cooks were idly making a meal over the stove that was simmering. The smells were hitting Annette's nose but she tried not to be too affected by how good it felt that they were blessed to have the maids still service them. Annette grew up with them and felt they were very much part of her family just as much as her bloodline was. She shared a small look with one of the maids and nodded knowingly. They had seen that look before and knew what it had signaled.

Annette stepped away before she could feel herself intervene once more. She felt compelled to care for her father in any way he needed. Of all of people affected from Evelyn's passing, Edward took her death the worst among her immediate family. She watched as Beverly, the main housekeeper tended to Edward stumbling toward his recliner seat. He fussed when she offered to take the full glass from his stubborn hands and speak to him with a soft tone. The sad moments were when Annette watched as her father was trying not letting his emotions get the better of him. Seeing her father, seeing a male cry was rare, she wondered if it was a generation aspect. Men were taught to keep their true emotions in and act as if everything was under control. This didn't bode well for her father. He was a compassionate and caring man; he was full of emotion that he showed from time to time, especially when Evelyn was still alive.

"I set him to bed, Miss Annette." Beverly said behind her.

Annette turned around, almost startled at the expression her housekeeper had. She held her chest with her palm and then smoothed strains of her hair behind her ear.

"Thank you, Beverly...for everything." She walked slowly to Beverly as the elderly woman pulled her inside for an embrace.

She kissed her forehead gently as Annette tried to compose herself, her emotions on edge whenever her father brought up her mother.

They pulled away for Annette to look up the staircase, knowing her father was more or less asleep in the master bedroom. She cleared her throat soundlessly.

"I know you worry for him my dear. We all do. At times he doesn't listen to me anymore. I have to believe it gets better from here on." Beverly's slight British accent cracking at the corners of her words.

Annette sighed deeply. "I know. Mother would want that. I wish he could know that, I just wish there was something I could—"

"Sweetheart, you've done more than you know. Don't worry, he will come around. He just needs to stop blaming himself for her passing."

Annette nodded, moving to walk upstairs when she heard Beverly call her name. "Yes?"

"Did you have a good day at your schooling?"

Annette's mind immediately went to Warren but her answer covered her real feelings.

"I did, thank you. I feel very blessed. I said a prayer outside of campus, made me feel...calm." She said softly, recalling the prayer she spoke.

"Did anything else happen? You have a smile on your face."

Annette touched her face before she smiled smiling. "Oh, well, nothing to really talk about. Except—"

"What my dear?"

"You know that boy I was telling you about earlier? Of Worthington Corporations? His family is rich in stocks and economic practices. They do business with Fred Trump."

"The real estate mogul? Worthington, oh yes, I know the name quite well. What happened?"

Annette blushed, "Warren, their heir, their son, well—he spoke to me today."

Beverly's smile reached her eyes as her hand came over Annette's resting atop the newel post on the bottom of the staircase. "That's wonderful my dear."

"It is but...I don't know, I'd really like to get to know him better but he has so many people around him. He could get any girl, talk to them, most of the time he does."

"Oh well, you should be careful then sweetheart."

Annette sighed as she nodded. "You're probably right. I'm going to my room to study. Let me know if you need me to do anything."

It wasn't unlike Annette to say that. She's been known to help around the house when Beverly has had her hands full, especially with her father.

But Beverly paid her no mind, shaking her head gently. "No worries, my dear, all is taken care of. Go on, go relax. I'm sure you've had a long day."

Annette found the grandfather clock that loudly ticked to chime half passed seven. She didn't realize the time had gone by so quickly in the Fall. That meant shorter days, Annette remembered to count day light savings time when it came around.

She hugged Beverly as she kissed Annette's forehead. She walked up the stairs and placed her bag down near her study desk. She turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't wearing makeup but it wouldn't matter. She'd still look the same. Makeup is supposed to make you look beautiful. Hair products. Annette would see all kinds of adverts on television and she thought if she bought all those things guys at school would look her way. It turns out, it wasn't that easy.

She sighed within herself, took off her clothes and stepped slowly into the scolding hot shower she needed. After stepping out she changed into her night gown, getting ready for bed. She mostly studied on her bed and sometimes would fall asleep in the middle of her assignments.

Gathering her books and paper assignments together she sat down on top of her neatly made bed, slipping off her soft slippers, sitting Indian style.

A knock made her attention stop for a moment as she stared up into the eyes of her father. He looked tired and worn, eyes looking like they had better days to them. They used to be a bold blue-green, now they feel soft and vulnerable. Annette pressed her lips together as her father gently opened the door to read her face. It was rare when he did this, when he would she only listened and watched him as he slowly came to his senses.

"I don't like hurting you Annette. If I never say it I want you to know how sorry I am. I can't bare the Fall without her, I hope you understand me. I don't want to lose you too. I can't..." He trailed off, coming into her room as Annette made room for him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"She used to make everything so special; it's hard for me to live with her passing. I wish I can make the feeling go away. I do believe she is watching over us, sending prayers, guarding us from the world. She was doing this when she was alive, maybe she is doing this from above."

Annette watched her father break down with his face in his hands, looking to be holding back tears. She slowly moved to comfort him, rubbing his back as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Edward returned the embrace, leaning his chin over his daughter's shoulder in thought. He wanted to be rid of those moments of "what if" and "what could he have done" to prevent her passing.

"I'm sorry Dad. I love you, I'm so sorry. If there is anything I can—"

He pulled away gently, taking her face in his hands. "Don't worry about me. Promise me, Annette?"

"Yes," she nodded reluctantly as they pulled away, Edward taking his time to stand up. She looked at him wondering if a simple motion like standing up was too much for him. She touched his shoulder and instantly he smiled softly, straightening his posture as he turned to the door not before looking back at her.

"Goodnight darling, sweet dreams." He said, without another word, closing the door as Annette contemplated his behavior.

She rubbed her hands together, warming them slightly as she made her way to the soaked window. The rain was coming down mighty hard and she gazed outside as thunder and lightning tore into the atmosphere. She wiped the fog to see better, feeling a strange rush run through her body, wondering if her worrying helped her father or she was making it worse. He seemed to bury the emotions quickly just now. All she can think of was she wanted him to have peace.

She went to close the curtains and noticed a shadow in the large oak trees near her room. She focused on the image only to see what looked like eagle wings spread in pure flight, a bird? Maybe...Annette was mesmerized until the figure flew far out of sight, away from her clear vision.


	2. Chapter 2

Warren Worthington III walked out the back door of the hall of NYU without looking back. His friends were becoming a bit overwhelming but he never paid it any mind. He felt pretty well considering the fight he had with his father earlier. He didn't want to mentally overview what happened, he knew his father was going to pick another fight with him soon.

"Hey Warren, I'm going out back, I'll meet you at the quad soon, OK?" Warren's friend and teammate, Joshua called out. "You'll be there, right?"

"Sounds swell, Joshua." Warren nodded vaguely, not bothering to turn around. There were always people around him; he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Today felt like just another day, the weather was brisk and crisp, with a sharpness of ice hitting the atmosphere, gradually getting colder as the night covered the sky. Warren looked up to gaze the moon. It was brighter tonight, he wondered what it would be like to live on another planet. Suddenly the thoughts were hitting him as he walked to the quad area, that uneasy feeling coming back again.

He didn't feel like being here but he knew he had to show up. His friends would pester him endlessly if he miss stepped. It was almost like being at home. He already had a father; he didn't need more reprimanding coming his way.

Knowing this was going to bite him later, he made a split decision and jogged back to his car and revved up the engine, about to leave. He let the motor warm up a little as he thought of his brief conversation with Annette Arrington earlier. He wasn't one to have thoughts on anyone much, he had barely spoken with Annette and yet she was a special case.

Their comparisons only stopped where his knowledge permitted them to. They were different in other ways. Sure, she was well off, mainly through real estate no less, her father's empire, what little he knew about their business and family came in the form of the local newspaper. He could remember as back as when she first attended NYU. She was small, average height; she had neither short nor long legs to speak of, but her body was just enough, he felt himself glancing her way as she moved. Her face was doll-like, eyes the color of stark, a crystal blue, if anything they looked like icicles he saw atop the roof of his mansion. Her lips were shapely, almost pursed when he came near her earlier today. She was nervous when he approached her car. He almost blushed himself watching her face dip downward to hide the pinkness on her cheeks.

He never stared too long, they never were alone together in general, or friends for that matter, and yet he felt like they knew each other. He remembered her walking up the main entrance on her first day at the university. She looked lost, terribly out of place. When she glanced his way she came to ask him where the administration building was located. Warren remembered leading the way himself, relying directions, earning a small, shy smile right before she turned the other direction.

He watched her walk away, feeling like he made a fool of himself. Even if he never showed it to his friends, he always worried about meeting people. New York University had its known students and wealthiest pupils; Warren was unfortunately at the top of the list. Yet the irony being nobody really knew who he really was.

His father, Warren Worthington II, was the wealthiest of all the students' heritage, more money than would make billionaires like Fred Trump blush, even if Trump was one of his father's important employees. Fred practically worked for Warren's father, Warren II and he never allowed Warren to forget it.

Shaking his head for a moment, Warren hadn't realized he didn't leave yet and pulled his car out of the driveway, wavering through the large parking lot and took a small short path home. He had always taken the longer one as a means to avoid going home right away. He knew waiting for him was an avalanche of confrontations from his father devised in more ways to control and sabotage his life. Being a Worthington wasn't without its jeers, it wasn't like this growing up. His life was different. Their lives were better; his father was a human instead of a demon disguised as a human.

Warren knew that if he went home now he can avoid being seen by his father by just entering from the back way. It was a risk, about this time the maids were drying laundry over the streamline with pins attached, but he took his chances anyway. The maids weren't outside now, the weather hadn't permitted it. It was time to put his plan into action.

He crept over the small passage where he could sneak into the back way. The maids weren't too preoccupied with the laundry; they drifted away to the kitchen, preparing something elaborate for dinner that night. Warren saw this as his opportunity to jog upstairs and shut the door, blocking anyone from coming inside. He made his way upstairs, walking quietly to his room, not before shutting the door and leaned against it with a brief sigh.

He brought his books and bag down and collapsed on his bed, closing his eyes. That was almost too easy, he thought. It sounded like on a day like today either his father was nowhere to be found or it wasn't the day the staff fussed over his coming home. He was used to be watched so much that he valued his alone time as much as he could.

His door creaked open as one of the maids peeked their head inside. "Mr. Warren, are you alright?"

Warren raised his head slightly, closing his eyes. There was never going to be moment that was going to be just his, is there?

"Yes...can I be left alone please?"

"As you wish, shall I tell your father—"

"Tell him nothing. I never came home. He doesn't deserve to know about my presence." Warren replied tersely, feeling his heart beat against his chest. "Leave now."

"Very well. I shall put your dinner away once again tonight."

Warren held up his hand, "Don't, I will come down, just not right now. I don't wish to see him if he is home."

"He is not, he is away until midnight. You do best to come down for dinner. Your mother worries for you."

Warren blinked back tears from the corner of his eyes. "I know she does. Thank you, Martha. I appreciate everything you've done for this family. I will be down shortly."

He watched as his personal family housekeeper, Martha, came further inside, opening the door and coming close to his bed. She rarely approached him except in service but now she had a somber look upon her face. Warren sat up on his elbows, staring out into space.

"You don't have to make it this hard Warren. He is still your family. Blood is resilient. You can't go on in your life escaping him forever. You still bear his name. Worthington men have been nothing but stubborn. I know it like the back of my hand. This will pass. Your father was the same way with his own father, your grandfather."

The way Martha phrased her wording it appeared that she believed he was only pretending. Like these thoughts and emotions he felt weren't genuine. Like he was some petulant child throwing some sort of temper tantrum.

"You presume to know everything based on what?" He nearly interrupted, glaring at Martha with upset eyes. "You know nothing. He is _not_ my father. This is _not_ a family. It hasn't been for quite some time. Father is too far gone to be what I need right now. You wouldn't understand. Now leave me, please."

Martha sighed heavily, standing up slowly from the bed, wondering what she was going to do to help him. He looked so broken. If there was only some way she would pray he give his father a chance. But sadly that wasn't her place. She knew it well but she also knew the Worthingtons better than she knew most families she'd worked for in her life.

"Very well. Don't forget about supper." Without another word spoken she left Warren alone with his thoughts.

That was the problem. He wanted to be alone but not with his thoughts. They were almost too frightening. His father's face and words would appear and he couldn't do anything to erase them completely. Of course Martha couldn't understand, she saw everything from his father's perspective. It would be because Warren hardly, if ever, spoke to anyone about his problems. He was the type of person to bottle his emotions.

Hesitating for a moment he took out his yearbook, flipping through the pages lazily until he found what he wanted. He and Annette Arrington had gone to the same boarding school. Little did he know, they were in the same place all along and Warren had never noticed until college.

His fingers traced the shape of her face; he memorized the curves, the way her lip turned upward which made her eyes crease only slightly at their corners. It was a while since he stared at her picture. He had no other photographs of her; he just had the moments he caught a glimpse of her at their University's quad, staring up at the sky, looking off in thought.

He always wondered what she was thinking about. If she ever had eyes for someone else, anyone special in her life. From the little he knew of her, he didn't find himself going up and asking her. He was almost too sheepish to make the approach. Being as confident as he was, Warren still found it hard to walk up to girls, especially a girl that he was intrigued by. Annette certainly held his attention more than he thought he would.

Today was the first day he did something about it. He wanted to say more, much more, but she looked as if she had other plans so in that moment he made his way back to his car and without another look, driving back to the home he hoped was empty.

Annette, being around her, in the few times he had, made him feel calm and he thought for a second as he closed the book, maybe there was a way he could get closer to her. Found her in a moment where she could maybe, if she wanted, say more than just the usual formalities they shared.

He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes, popping them back open as he took off his sweater, the only article of clothing that kept the real him locked for good. Warren's father knew, his housekeeper knew and his mother knew he was a mutant. He hid it well over the years and yet it was getting harder to cover who he really was.

He looked outside; rain pouring as if the Gods above commanded it to never stop. Warren felt brave. He looked behind him, making certain the latch on his door was locked. If anything, it was superb of his full time staff to afford substantial security to his bedroom. His father almost fought it but Warren said he would behave so his father allowed it to be.

When he was sure he was alone, Warren made the move to leave out of his large glass pane window, big enough to fit his entire body and his wingspan.

Speaking of, he released the restraints from his back, allowing his wings to spread until they couldn't anymore. He took a deep breath, smiling as he rode the wind and rain, passing his mansion, above other estates, taking in the views as he always had.

Nothing could explain the vigor he felt as he flew. Each time was different but new and exciting. He didn't feel like he could hide in the prison that was his house, his own room felt like he was held captive and the only way out was his gifted ability.

He landed atop a vast oak tree pausing to take a moment, he looked around, observing anything and everything; his blond hair slicked back as he rubbed his face. In that moment he felt feral, raw; free. He peered around inside a home with warm lighting. He grabbed a closer look as he further in the interior of the furnishings.

He recognized her, a girl, someone he knew. She was...it _couldn't_ be. It was Annette Arrington speaking to an older gentleman, he looked to be her father, somewhat older. They were having a conversation and closed it briefly. Annette walked to her bed, her eyes finding themselves outside. Warren could have sworn she was looking in his direction.

She stood up to get a better look, her eyes were in the direction he was. A small panic hit him as he slid down from the branches and picked up flight, moving away from the tree, gaining further altitude as he flew back to his window.

The smile he wore stayed on his face as he turned back to look at where he's been. It was good thing she didn't catch him but he was fortunate to see her. Now he knew where she lived. Warren wiped his face as he climbed back inside and shut the windows behind. He fixed his restraints on and threw over his sweater to cover his soaked frame.

Biting his lip he threw himself on top of his bed, the smile he had not once leaving his face. No matter what happened tonight he wanted to keep it that way.

His raised his eyebrows, saying softly to himself, "Tomorrow is another day."


	3. Chapter 3

Annette sat on the grassy knoll, thinking over what she was going to say, let alone deal with her father. The moments poured over and over in her mind and she was starting to obsess over every little thing he does.

Last night was different for them, more different than other nights she and her father had. Some days she didn't know if he would ever come back from his inner torment. Her father became hostile at times. The maids had no idea how to respond. They only knew to call a professional, a hospice orderly to assist his needs.

Annette wasn't mentally nor was she physically built for handling the challenge of taking care of her father. She never could understand why he sunk so low into himself; so far not even a miracle could help him. Help them. It was only just the two of them living with each other. Annette felt it akin to an eternity the longer she stayed. She chose to attend the best college near her father. When the aftermath of what happen occurred, she had no choice but to stay close, and she couldn't find it in her heart to abandon him.

In New York, the early 1960s it was said to be improper for daughters to leave home to a college out of state. Especially one that comes from a blue blood family like Annette. Right now, it felt like her family was falling apart. She didn't know what kind of man she will receive in her father every day. He showed different sides to his personality that made Annette feel on edge, like she was to expect it as normal behave after a death in the family.

It had been, Annette forced herself to tolerate whatever came next.

She hoped she would see his vulnerable side, a grieving side, one where his gentle voice came out. Something that lights the pathway to forgiveness. Edward had blamed himself for her mother's passing every day, knowing that if it was something he could have done to prevent the accident. Had he been there, there was no telling if she would still be alive. Edward seemed to believe she would have but Annette wished he would realize this. That it was neither of their faults.

Annette prayed more than she ever had during that tragic time. She wasn't sure if anyone was listening but she had faith someone would have heard her. School had thankfully been a amiable distraction from the reality. It wasn't as if Annette wanted to forget, there was no way she could. It did, however, make things slightly easier for herself. She just kept going, kept moving. Kept living. That's all she really could do.

She stood up and walked to the library, holding a stack of small books tucked underneath her arm. Dropping the books inside the return bin she turned around feeling her body collide with another.

"Oh, excuse me." She whispered, slowly looking up into a pair of crystal blue eyes.

The near sharp intake of breath made her freeze for a moment. A pair of strong arms kept her from losing her balance. She found herself staring until she realized what she was doing. Warren stared back with a small smile, just like many of the ones he gave her before. He let go of her shoulder when he realized he was holding onto her to keep her from falling.

"Annette, hello. How are you?" He asked in a low whisper, looking around the nearly empty facility.

"I'm well." She smiled slightly with a hint of blush. "Oh, we're in a library, I don't know if we should talk in here."

Annette was surprised at how much confidence she radiated suddenly. She wasn't sure it was because she actually wanted to talk to him or that feeling inside that made her take a leap of faith.

"Alright, let's go outside. Would you like that?" Warren couldn't believe how nervous he felt.

Being this close to her made him confused. She was truly innocent, more than any girl he'd spoken to at NYU.

"I would." She said, nodding with a gentle smile.

They walked together making their way outside passed the trees and toward the benches that most social gatherings were held. There were no festivals or special events, they were practically alone.

"So I, are you, umm, what are you studying?" Annette stammered; mentally zapping for embarrassing herself.

She watched him for a moment before asking, "What is it?"

Warren had the feeling she wanted to ask something else besides school. He grew brave suddenly, no matter how many times he met girls they were always a problem for him, especially the ones he had yet to know. Annette and he had never really spoken; it was time he changed that. He held his hand out for her to take. He wanted to do this right, like how his mother raised his to be.

"Come with me." He said as her hand came inside his, fitting like a perfect glove he clasped his hand over hers.

Leading the way he and Annette walked to go sit on one of the lone benches. Everything seemed airy, like all her problems melted away around him; she was wondering if this was real or just a dream.

"I feel like maybe I've been here before, or I'm meant to be here. I don't know, I'm not making much sense am I?"

Warren turned to look at her, his lingering stare never leaving her once. "You are, you're making perfect sense."

He leaned to touch her face, his hand trailing down her cheek to cup it suddenly.

Annette's eyes closed slowly then opened them even slower to reveal the grassy knoll she was was napping on the entire time. She rubbed her eyes and pulled her long hair away from her face. She sighed heavily, knowing it was all too good to be true. Warren would hardly be near her unless there was a reason, like the school administration switched their lockers or something like that.

She hated how distant they seemed. They knew of each other for years and haven't moved passed formalities; Annette was beginning to lose hope when it came to Warren. It was hard to be content with just staring at him. NYU was a large campus; the chances of them running into each other aren't plausible anyway.

She checked her wrist watch, making up her mind if she was going to finish the rest of her reading assignment in the library before going home. Her father would probably be home and need attention. She normally never did any school work at home, out of respect for her father. Sometimes she would read, but it was only for recreation.

The large facility of the library might just put her to sleep again; she'd have to worry about coming back on time, before 8pm. She would have a couple of hours to get her reading done.

School and studies, that was her life; that was all it ever will be too. Annette would feel content if it wasn't so stifling. It seemed like the more she wanted things to improve, the more they stayed the same. To Warren, she would just be that girl, that silly girl who was lost on her first day as a freshman. Annette remembered him showing her the way like he pitied her, then saying goodbye as if he had better things to do. She thought a lot about that day and wondered if something was going to come out of it. Wishful thinking.

After packing up her belongings she made her way towards the cafe instead. She figured if she was going to read then she might as well get a milkshake and be in a place where she wouldn't fall asleep. She made her way inside and noticed it was nearly empty. She assumed the majority of the students went to another cafe or were out doing things other then studying.

She looked around and spotted the waiter aimlessly wiping around the counter and stocking various supplies needed for the customers. Annette knew him by name and called him by it. He wasn't wearing his name tag today and the soda jerk hat he normally wore barely stayed on his head. He looked like something was on his mind, ironic being he was the one usually chatting with the customers as he took their orders.

Annette took a booth in the far corner. She didn't know what she wanted so she took a seat until Lawrence was ready to come over with his trusty pencil and pad.

"Annette, how are you sweetheart?" She heard Lawrence ask her and the corners of her mouth lifted.

"Swell, thank you. How are you?"

He shrugged, wanting to reveal more but didn't want to burden her with the details.

"I've been alright. What'll it be? Same as usual?"

Annette smiled sweetly, "I think so, I guess I needed to come here before I could fall asleep again."

"Oh?" Lawrence said, writing down her usual milkshake, "Something on your mind? How are your studies? Is something the matter?"

She shook her head, "Not really, I would just prefer to do my reading here. It's awful quiet in the library, I'm afraid I will close my eyes and rest again. It's going well though, thank you for asking."

Lawrence leaned his bulky arms on the table, staring at Annette, making sure it wasn't something serious he should know about. "You sure, honey? You know, you could always talk to me. Just like this place, my ears are always open."

She pursed her lips, giving a slightly frown but nodding to his graciousness. "Thank you, it's nothing, really. You don't need to worry about me."

Lawrence was a father of five children; he couldn't help but look at Annette as one of his own. Taking his arms firms off the table he stood up straight, shrugging.

"I see, well, it's coming right up. Let me know if you need anything else, this one's on me hun."

"Thank you, Lawrence, you're so kind."

"You got it, doll." He winked and turned around to place the order in.

Now was as good a time as any to begin her reading. If she had gotten started now, she wouldn't need to worry about completing it later. It didn't sound like her to put it off either. It wasn't like she had much of a social life, invited to any parties. There was too much to worry and think about what other people did. Her dad would never let her forget anything she did if she went out and started drinking.

When Lawrence brought over her drink she thanked him and sipped the shake slowly in thought. She hated dreaming about Warren lately. This wasn't the first time she woke up having vividly dreamed about him. It just seemed like that's all they will ever be, dreams. Hopes for something better. Would her life be better if Warren asked her to go steady? The realist in her said no as Warren's WASP lifestyle doesn't fit in with her organically grown livelihood.

What did she know anyway? Nothing was going to come of them, even as friends or whatever they actually were. She'll never know where they stand because, simply, she isn't Warren's type. She wasn't sure if she was anyone's type at NYU, even with the school being as creative as it was. Boys just always walked passed her, hardly giving her the time of day.

She shook in place as thunder rumbled the small diner. Her shoulders shook as she noticed slits of rain falling on the window pane; soon it was solid water drops. Annette grimaced when she realized she hadn't brought an umbrella. She only had her knitted cream sweater and the shawl she carried when it was cold. Could she withstand the temperatures outside? She knew she was going to get soaking wet if she set one foot outside.

She huddled in the corner, waiting for the rain to run its course when the door chimed open and in walked someone that had been directly affected by the weather. Annette took a second to look up, almost focusing her eyes to what was in front of her.

It was Warren Worthington, blond hair damp and tasseled in a rowdy fashion, his onyx leather jacket shined from the glistening water droplets that fell to the floor, faster than her eyes could follow. If possible, he looked better like this then his usual preppy style. He almost seemed confused as he looked around the diner as if he was trying to find something or _someone_. Annette was sure it wasn't her, his eyes came nowhere near where she sat.

Lawrence came to greet whoever came in and tensed for a moment. He wasn't afraid but he looked skeptical, as if Warren was someone he didn't trust. Annette never saw Lawrence react that way, normally he never seemed so distant. She wondered why he responded that way until he nodded to one of the tables and Warren came to sit on the opposite side of the diner.

Annette was starting to think he wanted to be left alone and so she adhered to that by picking up her novel, unfolding the dog-eared page and began where she left off. The soft Motown music coupled with the hard rain surprisingly made it easier for her to focus. Her body was betraying her as she glanced up to stare at Warren briefly.

Sighing she found it difficult to read suddenly, Warren was a man that looked like he had a story behind him. Her eyes would flicker from the page to him catching his breath, sitting in thought. As much as she should ignore and stay away from him, she found herself being drawn each time she saw him. She knew he wouldn't be looking back, especially when he appeared to be having more on his mind at the moment.

More thunder came at the diner and Annette shared a small look with Lawrence, he sent nod back as if asking if she was alright. She responded by nodding back and shrugging. She wasn't normally afraid of the rain, something about it excited her. The mixture of the hard water pouring down, slight lightening and the building rumbles, made her curious.

It didn't affect nor did it faze Warren. He hadn't moved since Lawrence brought over a fresh cup of coffee. He hadn't moved to touch it, Annette figured it was his business and that was that. Annette almost made a move to walk over to him but stopped herself. This wasn't about her or them, clearly he was going through something and she was the last person he wanted to talk to.

Suddenly she felt eyes on her and looked around, Lawrence wasn't in sight and the other patrons were keeping to themselves. She stared in Warren's direction noticing he was looking right at her, almost trying to make sure if she was there.

Annette sank in her booth seat. He couldn't be looking at her. He was probably staring behind her, trying to look for someone else. When Annette turned around, she frowned. She faced front and noticed him actually staring directly at her. She was sure of it. She wasn't dreaming this time. A dream within a dream? It's possible but she pinched herself slightly, yes, this was real.

Warren gave a small smile, showing his pearly straight, white teeth, no doubt coming from expensive orthodontia. He started walking in her direction.

"Can I sit here?"

Annette stared at her book then up at his towering height, somehow finding her voice. "Oh, yes, hi Warren."

"Hello Annette." He said, taking the seat from across her.

Moments of silence filled the room; you'd never tell if anyone was talking even though their conversations were still going on. Warren glanced at Annette, absentmindedly sipping her shake and sharing a look with him briefly before looking around. She appeared nervous which confused Warren. They had met before, but he suppose it was never this direct or... _intimate_ before.

"How are you?" He started, hoping he would break the ice.

"I'm swell, how are you?"

He sighed, wondering if he should really answer that question or just give the casual answer when someone asked him that.

"Fine, I noticed you were here alone. I didn't realize it was pouring out, I would have asked for my driver to come early."

Annette nodded, "I see, well I don't intend on going outside unless it drizzles. Though I don't think it will be that way for a while."

"So I guess we're stuck here then?"

She hadn't thought of it that way, she thought it was just going to be her.

"Yes, I suppose."

Warren bit his lip, not remembering why he was growing anxious. Maybe it was the way the calm colors of her wardrobe soothed his eyes. She always wore her hair loosely, almost begging for someone to stroke it, feel the softness against his fingers. She wore virtually no makeup, keeping a natural look, her pure rosy cheeks appearing more red than pink in that moment. The way her lip hung low as she stared at him, he didn't realize he was staring until he caught himself.

"I guess it doesn't have to be so boring. Were you studying?" He asked, gesturing to the book she grasped.

She smiled shyly. "Oh, I guess I could finish it later." She said, almost in a sad tone, Warren did interrupt her but she was allowing it so she didn't feel so guilty.

"I can let you study if you need to. I'm sorry, I just saw you over there and I wanted to come over to say hi. I wanted to see how you are. If I'm interrupting your homework you can say so."

She blushed, hiding her face a little as she felt herself melt when he said those words. "It's alright. You weren't interrupting anything."

Warren checked her eyes, it's a tell with girls. His mom used to lie when he noticed her hovering eyes, Annette was reacting the same way. He let it go for now, wanting to keep their talk short if need be. He had no idea why he wanted to come over to her, he just did.

"OK good, well we can't do much with the New York rain pouring down the campus, can we?"

"I don't do many things anyway." She confessed, nearly wide-eyed she said that aloud.

"I like to do some things on my own, like fly—er I mean sometimes I like to travel. But plans often get cancelled."

Annette licked her lips curiously, "Oh, why is that?"

Warren shrugged, "I suppose bad organizing. My friends want to come but other things are priority."

She wanted to suggest an idea but Lawrence came over to ask how they were and if they wanted anything else. Annette was eyeing a dessert but declined the offer.

"Do you want one?" Warren asked before Lawrence was about to turn around.

Annette took one look at her thighs and shook her head vehemently with a smile, "No, thank you. Thank you Lawrence."

Warren stared at her for a moment before he waved Lawrence off. "Alright, I'll stop asking, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's alright; I shouldn't be having sweets anyway."

"Why is that?" He asked, looking at her curiously.

Annette blushed, looking down her body before locking eyes with him. He seemed genuinely confused but he might be trying to make her feel better.

"It's not good for you, I guess. Even the shake, I don't know, never mind."

Warren smiled sheepishly, "Well, if you want my opinion, you look just fine, beauty doesn't just mean exteriors."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Warren Worthington, heir to the Worthington Corporation of Industries, actually saying being beautiful on the outside is erroneous. She wanted to believe him but now, she knew he was lying. She thought he was just wasting her time.

"No offense, but, I don't believe you." She said, biting her lip, moving away slightly.

He sat still across from her, looking dumbfounded. He was confused she said those words to him. Then he remembered she probably knew who he was, the type of people he chose to be around. The popular crowds he often drew. The obviously attractive women he would talk to. If only Annette had one iota what it was really like...maybe it was for the best. He nodded and made a move to stand up.

"I'm sorry if I upset you. I know it probably doesn't seem true coming from me but the reason why I can't be with anyone right now is because how they look does distract me and it's not the only th—maybe you don't know how hard other people have it too. It goes both ways."

Annette's eyebrows knitted together as her lips parted, she didn't know if she should be more annoyed or ask him what he meant by that. The better part of her gave the more honest answer.

"You're right; I have no idea what it's like to be you."

"No, you don't." He said in a low voice.

Warren gave her a strong look before swallowing roughly. He hesitated before he turned the corner and left her alone in the diner. He was immediately sprayed with rain mist, the pouring had subsided, he brushed his long wavy hair out of his eyes and stared back at Annette who instantly turned her face away.

It was almost too late to walk back inside to fix things. He knew he messed things up with her, she probably wanted nothing to do with him. With that, he left to go find his car to drive home.

Annette leaned her chin on her palm, trying not to let what just happened affect her but it was too late. It wasn't like Warren to actually come over to talk to her, he would get nothing out of it and she was just as confused and nervous as he was. She couldn't forget what he said, it would be hard to try to erase those words from her mind but she was going to have to try to ignore him completely, even the things he had confessed.

But she didn't want to.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Warren suppressed a yawn but came out regardless as he threw his text books into his locker. He realized he was behind on his studies and he was just now catching up. If his father found out he was floundering in school, he wouldn't allow him to forget it.

He didn't want to have a lot on his mind, but he did and he was trying to distract himself with class work. He looked toward his next class and walked toward the door when he felt someone near him.

"Hello Warren, how are you?" Candy Southern asked him with a slight girlish curl in her tone.

Candy had been someone he knew in his friendship circles. His friends thought he would ask her to go steady but he never did. He didn't understand why, maybe it was because she was a little on the aggressive side and she probably knew that. Nevertheless he still gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe talking to her can ease the stress off his mind. If it was anything else, Candy sure loved to talk.

"Swell, how are you Candy?"

"Well, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking. I haven't seen you around campus lately."

Warren scratched the back of his neck, "Oh, it's nothing, everything's just swell. You don't need to worry about me."

Candy's upturned nose wrinkled and her eyes brightened upon hearing him say that. "Good, because I actually don't have a date to the Fall Formal."

Warren stopped walking when he realized he passed his class as he heard what Candy said. He shook his head, turning to her with an impatient look.

"I'm sorry Candy, I'm late for my class, I've got to go." He said, without a word he made his way past her and rushed to the correct room he was due to be in.

He didn't want to go but he knew being trapped around Candy was never a good idea. She was a notorious socialite, the polar opposite of Annette Arrington. He walked silently into the classroom and took his usual seat. He prepared his notes and noticed the classroom was more focused than he had been. He sat up straight, his wings became irritating but he ignored them for now. He'd have to adjust the harness at recession.

The teacher wrote some notes for the day on the big blackboard. The chalk made that horrible screeching sound but Warren was barely fazed. He said he was going to concentrate but he was finding it difficult. Thankfully the class was supposed to watch a video, which didn't require much concentration. The teacher specified the class was only supposed to watch, no pop quiz or test was coming. He lazily placed his wrist under his chin and more or less stared forward.

Warren yawned once more as he looked outside, seeing the wind brush the autumn leafs curling them in a small tornado. He wished he was outside, taking in the nature that he was made to be in. But he had to integrate. He had to be at school. He knew if he wasn't going to finish his education, then his father was going to have his head. Thinking about their last altercation, he didn't want to relive those emotions again.

His mind drifted away until he was fully and completely zoned out. He closed his eyes then opened them again, feeling like he was alone. He looked around the classroom, tensing his eyes, noticing something odd. He _was_ alone. Had he fallen asleep passed the class period? It appeared so. He shook his head and gathered his materials. It was the end of the day and thankfully he didn't have any more classes to attend.

As he made his way out of room stopped suddenly. Rain, again, condensation covered the tall windows leading down the hallway. The frosty fall complicated things even more. Warren walked to the administration building to make a call to his driver to come pick him up. He didn't drive that morning, he was feeling like he should have, but then, the exhaustion riding back wouldn't help. He hung up and exhaled before looking outside again. There was no way he was going to get away with sneaking off somewhere to fly back home. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. The Worthington name was at stake and Warren reluctantly pushed the idea out of his mind.

It was just not fair, he was _made_ for flying, every moment of his life he wanted to soar up into the skies and never come down. It just didn't feel authentic to hide so much, unfortunately, he had no choice. Mutants inevitably had to go into hiding for their safety. Being that it was 1964, the decade of new ideas and free thinking, you would presume democracy was accepting of mutants. They were the outcasts, the unloved and the misfits of society. Warren felt torn with one foot planted in the thick of Madison Avenue and the other stuck in a world where he would undoubtedly be feared and cast aside. If the government knew of people like him, he didn't want to think of what will happen to him.

Sitting down on the open chairs closest to the exit he looked out as cascades of rain droplets fell from the glass windows. His mind kept reeling back to the incident that happened between he and Annette. He couldn't shake away the look on her way before he ran away from her that night. Their first and only conversation and he managed to scare her even without telling her who he really was. Warren was never a man to become close to anyone, but there was something Annette that made him throw that away.

He wouldn't, he couldn't tell her who he really was. Not even he was sure of that. This change was completely new to him. He didn't know how to make sense of it. The money he was attached to came in good use to hide his wings. There was no way he was going to get out of them. The world was too afraid of his kind.

He glanced at the clock, thinking what was taking his ride so long. Growing impatient he fixed his posture from the harness that weighed his back down. There was no getting used to these things. He was going to have to deal with the repercussions of who he was. It wasn't just his wings he had to worry about. Warren more or less had decent vision. He was probably going to inherent reading glasses eventually but he was getting by with his sight before becoming a mutant.

His eyes had improved upon close watch, much like a bird's, used for hunting prey; his eyesight was keen and swift. He had perfect instincts and knew when he was being approached by anyone or anything as well as far apart vision from a hefty distance. Warren was grateful for the abilities and he'd used it to his advantage as long as he could. People just thought because he played golf and various sports that he had talent when it came to accuracy; it showed how little they really know about him.

He smirked as he heard footsteps and turned to the sound. Sighing, he almost waved but remembered what had happened between them the last time they were together.

"Oh, hello Warren." Annette said with a hint of sadness to her voice. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize you were still here."

Warren cleared his throat and observed her tense body posture; he could tell she didn't want to run into him of all people. But he wasn't going to burst into a conversation; he wasn't having much luck with those when it came to her.

"I'm just waiting for my driver." He said bleakly.

"Oh," She repeated, Annette hesitated before she nodded slowly. "I see."

She felt compassion for him in the moment. Regardless of what happened last time, it was difficult of her to blame him for what happened. He looked as if he wanted nothing to do with her. Seeing it as a sign she took a step back.

She wanted to leave, she tried to but her feet were planted. She couldn't turn away even though everything was telling her to. She observed Warren looking downcast, something was troubling him and she thought maybe one of the reasons was because of that night. Of course she didn't want to seem presumptuous and just assume it would be about her. Warren probably had a lot of pressure on top of all of the great things in his life. Again, her assumptions were getting her nowhere.

Annette cleared her throat, finding her voice, "I should probably call mine, do you know if...?"

Warren raised his head to look at her, "The Administration office is open? Yes, they are."

She nodded, ignoring how forlorn he sounded as she walked to the office. There was no one there but the phone was open. She looked behind her and moved to make the call. She noticed the dial tone was silent; she clicked the end button and listened again, still nothing. She shivered and hung up. She didn't realize the office held a draft in spite of the central heat that normally functioned during the cold weather.

She thought for a minute. Had the phone been cut somehow? The power? It was raining ravenously now and she looked around for a solution. Perhaps it was only this phone that malfunctioned. Could the power be out?

"Annette...is everything all right?" Warren asked softly behind her, she didn't realize he was so close. "Is something wrong?"

She stammered for a moment, rubbing her head slightly to think. She should have driven herself. Her father was the one who insisted she take the driver.

"Yes, I just need to find a working phone to call my driver." She confessed, pinching her eyes at how desperate she might have sounded. "I..."

Her brown hair flew in her face and turned around, only to nearly crash her body into Warren's. She exhaled briskly and walked around him leading to the hallway, trying to think. _I walked too far back from the Counseling Office, didn't I? Oh no, is it far too late to go back? The storm might not allow it. Oh my gosh, why does he have to be so close?_

Annette knew Warren was right behind her, watching her every move but she didn't care, she had to find some way to call her driver. She shivered as thunder erupted in the room followed by bright lightning streaks that illuminated the office.

She gasped when thunder rumbled the room and a strong blot of lightning crackled in the onyx New York sky, lighting up their faces. She shared a small look with Warren and began running to the hallway. It was pouring heavily outside but she didn't care, there was no way she was going to be alone with Warren for one second.

"Annette wait up! What's the matter? Why are you...Annette— _don't_ do that!" Warren pressed as he came besides her, touching her elbow gently only to have her flinch at his touch. "Oh, I'm sorry, but it's awfully cold and rainy outside. I didn't think you would want to wait."

Annette's breathing sped up and before she knew it she collapsed on the ground. Her back pressed against the wall and she stared into space. She was feeling light as if her body was weightless; she closed her eyes and felt her body go limp.

Warren caught her before her head came to the ground. He knew he had to act fast. There was no way he was going to fly in this weather. Someone could see him and Annette would be cold and wet. He thought for a moment before running toward the nurse's office. Nobody was inside so he went back to pick up Annette and carried her over to the patient's chair, laying her body gently onto the chair.

He released her before stepping away, not wanting to come any closer than he already was. But he couldn't help himself. She looked so peaceful, so quiet; he wanted to know what he did wrong with her and how he could make it right. He gingerly brushed her long brown hair away from her eyes. He was wondering if he should do more, he didn't know if she was coming down with something or did she only faint? Maybe she was dehydrated.

He heard a noise and moved to stand up to check the outside of the patient's room. Nobody was in the hallways; he made sure to check both sides before turning back to Annette's sleeping form. He hoped she was only sleeping. As he turned back he noticed she was sitting up slowly. He came besides her gently touching her elbow. He didn't want to seem like he was completely touching her, she looked as if she didn't know where she was.

Annette moaned and looked around the room. It was dark and cold, the draft was coming in strong and she felt goose bumps rise on her arms. When she tried to sit up she felt someone trying to help her. Not noticing who it was at first, her eyes had focused for a moment.

"Warren?" She whispered, reaching out touching his trench coat, getting a loose grip on it. "What's going on?"

"You don't remember? I saw you fall down the hallway and wanted to make sure if you were alright." Warren said to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

The dizziness came to her head as she rubbed it, feeling the effects take over her ability to speak. Warren helped her down the bed supporting her back as she tried to stand. She moaned again, feeling like she wanted to go back to sleep but kept herself awake.

"Oh...are we still at school? That's what I remember."

"Yes, and it's pouring rain outside, it's too dangerous to go anywhere Annette. You should take everything slow." He said gently.

She listened to him as her body shuddered from the thunder. She shared a small look with Warren and looked around the room, noticing something different.

"Where is everyone? What time is it?"

Warren searched for a clock as he looked around the nurse's office. "I think everyone had gone home early. It's only 3:30pm."

"Are we...?"

"Alone? Yes...for now. I don't think it's safe yet to go outside. The storm has gotten worse."

Annette groaned and shivered slightly. She remembered what happened between them come flooding back and she thought about braving the storm. She bit her lip, refusing to look at him, not in the way he was looking at her so intently, following her gaze wherever it went.

"How convenient." She muttered, moving off the bed and began to stand up. "Please, just, leave me alone."

She pushed his hand away as he came to assist her, throwing a slight scowl his way. She was nervous being this close to him and she hated it.

"I just don't want you to get hurt. The campus is dangerous during the harsh weather. Security isn't outside."

Her head whipped around as she tensed her brows. "How do you know?"

He came around and faced her properly. "Because I've been here before, very late and they go home early when it rains or snows. Trust me, Annette, I _wouldn't_ lie to you. I know...I can't—what happened that night at the diner was..."

She held his eyes suddenly, making his pause mid sentence. Gathering his strength to continue he pursed his lips. Her expression shifted from hard to soft, he was beginning to hope again.

"I don't think we should talk about that night." She confessed, a lump forming in her throat.

Warren sighed heavily as he looked behind at clock on the wall. "Alright, allow me to take you home. We don't have to talk at all. I just want to see that you're safe."

Annette huddled her shoulders, putting distance between their bodies, "If you must."

"I'm sorry...Annette, I am so sorry. Truly."

Annette's eyes watered as she looked to the ground, holding them back. "When is he arriving? Your driver?"

"Shortly. He is never late. I'm too important to the family fort—my father would want me back."

She nodded without another word. Taking a seat on the chairs in the office. She wondered why Warren kept himself so close to her physically, yet so far away when she was just starting to know him. She shouldn't care so much but it bothered her. She _wanted_ to know him, more than anything. But she was afraid. Too scared for her own good. Warren can't possibly feel the same way.

"I don't understand..."

Warren took the seat next to her, keeping his attention over her features as they went from confused to somber.

"What do you mean?"

She looked off in the darkness, timid at the pitch black color that brought goose bumps back to her forearms.

"Why do you care about me? You don't even know me."

He swallowed, making a sound he didn't want heard over the rumbling.

"Because you care about me too. I know we don't know each other, maybe, possibly that can change." he said, boldly.

Her mouth went dry and she swallowed roughly. Her inner most thoughts thinking that couldn't happen. This is another dream. It _has_ to be.

"I don't know what—" She stopped when she heard a loud rumbling and a strong crackle of lightning making her eyes expand.

Warren observed her apprehension and shed his jacket slowly and brought it around Annette's shoulders when her back turned. "It's going to be alright, you're safe."

Instantly Annette felt the warmer as she touched the sleeves of his coat, pulling it tighter around her small frame. A cool three sizes too big but she engulfed herself in the gesture. She didn't flinch or remove it and Warren smiled when he saw her mouth curving upwards as she looked at him.

"Thank you." She said, breathless even though she didn't mean it that way.

Both of them shook as more thunder kept shaking the ground where they were. Almost like it was a small aftershock that following the earthly tumble. Warren reached out to brush some hair that fell over her eyes. He wanted to see them, even in the darkness; their strong yet electric blue and grey iris locking with his crystal blue eyes. He hadn't seen her eyes like this before.

"Of course. Annette, you don't have to be scared of me. Maybe...usually I'm the one who is scared."

Her mouth formed a circle as the curious question escaped, "Why is that?"

Warren sunk back into himself, trying to compose his next words. The nerves hitting him straight between his eyes.

"I want to say this so badly. I'm—" He stopped abruptly as he heard his driver honk outside.

Annette's eyes glazed over, like she was hanging on his last word. "Warren, what is it?"

"My driver, he's outside."

She knew he was going to confess something but looked relieved when he heard the horn.

He looked down, almost in a small daze as she touched his forearm gently. "Warren, are you alright?"

Sharply he turned to her, like he was snapping out of his trance. "Yes, are you ready?'

Annette looked around the office and spotted what she thought she saw earlier: one of the attendant's umbrellas left behind. She stood up and walked to the case, pulling up the umbrella. It was large enough to fit over two people. She didn't waste any time unraveling the tie.

"Yes, I am." She commented as they heard another elongated honk. "We should go."

Warren nodded as Annette took off his jacket, he stopped her.

"No, keep it on. I'll be fine." He said, a small smile appeared.

Annette reluctantly kept it around her shoulders, not wanting to argue with him over something so basic. They walked together down the hallway exit as Warren held the door open for her. She opened the umbrella and held it over both of their bodies. Warren being a towering 6'1" she struggled to gain height to reach his level.

He caught on and took the handle gently from her grasp.

"Allow me." He spoke as they continued walking until they saw the black Cadillac in the downpour.

Annette smiled graciously and silently went inside first as Warren followed behind her. He said some small words to his driver, but then his driver asked Warren where Annette lived. As she gave the directions his driver noted her appearance. Simple, almost matronly, not at all the type of girls he has seen Warren with. He paid no mind and drove off without another judging glance.

During the ride Annette looked on at Warren's profile and marveled at the sight. He truly was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Not that it was ever mutual between them. Warren could never see her the way she saw him. But something odd plagued her mind, why _did_ he want to get to know her? And what was he going to confess at the office? So many questions came and no answers were given.

Warren pressed a button to give them privacy from his driver who was known to eavesdrop into conversations a time too many. Warren wanted to make sure Annette wasn't uncomfortable, even for the short amount of time they have until they reach her house. Warren wanted to continue from where he had before but he lost his way. He didn't know how to just tell her something so big it would change both of their lives. No one knew at school who he is, and it was going to stay that way. But Warren felt compelled to be himself in that moment, looking into Annette's eyes. He wanted to trust her with his secret. He licked his lips and noticed her body language reveal something.

"Thank you..." she spoke softly. "For everything." She locked eyes with him before he forced himself to turn away.

"Of course." Was all he could say, but he didn't want to stop there.

His heart began beating hard against his rib cage when his driver rolled down the window.

"Here we are sir." He said, turning back at Warren and Annette before turning off the engine.

Annette began taking off Warren's jacket reluctantly. Her own trench coat barely keeping her warm as she placed her hand on the handle, turning to look at him briefly.

"Goodbye Warren, thank you." She said, almost in a sad manner.

He had his chance, in that moment he wanted her to stay, to come home with him, to tell her who he really is.

"Annette, wait."

She paused before moving to turn around to stare at Warren, she bite her lip uncertain of what he was going to say.

"I will walk you to your doorstep." He said, moving to grab his umbrella.

Annette took a moment to smile slightly, feeling safe with Warren at her side. "Alright."

He shared a small smile with her as he led her out of the car, shielding her frame from the heavy rain. They walked in silence up the wet brick stairs to her front porch. Warren took a deep breath as he looked at her. She looked as if something was on her mind; he thought it was about what just happened. She had to be traumatized by fainting so abruptly.

"Thank you, for all the help tonight. I don't know what would have happened if—"

"I wasn't there?"

She nodded genuinely.

"Your welcome. Annette..." he paused and caught her eyes looking concerned, but gave a reassuring smile. "I'm glad you're alright."

Annette reached out to take his free hand. Warren was slightly surprised at the gesture. "You don't need to worry about me anymore tonight."

Warren felt separate for the moment, he wanted to say what he really felt but it was like something was holding him back. He shook his head and politely nodded toward her.

"Have a good night, Annette. I will see you at school tomorrow."

Annette released his hand as he stepped backward. "Yes, you will. Goodnight."

She wanted him to come closer but she didn't have the strength to say the words. Watching him walk away was difficult but he had to leave. There was no telling how far she was going to allow herself to grow closer with Warren Worthington. He seemed distant in that instance anyway, she paid it no mind as she turned the key to open the door with a slight creak and leaned her body against it, feeling the fatigue surfacing.


End file.
